


Famished

by slash_whump_addict



Series: I heard you were handsome, but you're just edible! [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-27
Updated: 2012-12-27
Packaged: 2017-11-22 16:17:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/611760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/slash_whump_addict/pseuds/slash_whump_addict
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Directly follows "Hungry". After sitting through his brother's <s>pornographic display</s> sloppy eating habits, Sam's own appetite is increasing significantly...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Famished

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted back in 2011 on LiveJournal.

Dean let out a satisfied sigh as he pushed his empty plate away from him. He patted his stomach, and belched loudly.  
  
“Dude, you’re a pig!”  
  
“Just showing my appreciation for the food, Sammy.” Dean smirked that annoying, sexy, big brother smirk, then took a deep drink of his Coke.  
  
Sam was thankful that his brother had _finally_ finished eating, meaning they could get out of there. Despite the air conditioning in the diner, Sam was flushed and covered in a fine sheen of sweat. Trying to ignore the sight and sounds of Dean eating was harder than you’d think.  
  
His mind kept wandering, and no matter how hard he tried to keep it in check, it kept defying him and supplying sinful images of all the things he wanted to do to his brother. His _brother_ for Christ’s sake! The result of said mind wandering was that Sam was getting more and more turned on, squirming even more in his seat.  
  
“The bathroom’s right there if you need to go, man.”, Dean said, almost in an accusatory tone.  
  
“I don’t need the bathroom.” _Think of an excuse, Sam_ , he thought. “It’s too hot in here, I wanna get out and get some fresh air.”, he said, hoping he sounded convincing.  
  
Dean gave him a confused look. “It’s hot _in here_? What the fuck?” he said, eyes flicking between the air conditioning, and Sam. He didn’t press it any further and Sam began to slide out of booth, ready to leave, when Dean carried on speaking.  
  
“I’m still hungry. The sign says they have 12 different kinds of pie!” he beamed. “Hey sweetheart!” he called to the waitress behind the counter, who almost tripped over her own feet in the rush to get to their table.  
  
 _Typical_! Sam thought to himself.  
  
The waitress stood so close to Dean that her hip was almost touching his shoulder. “What can I do for you?” she asked in a breathless tone, the lust unmistakeable in her eyes.  
  
“Anything he wants, I’ll bet.”  
  
“That so?” came Dean’s amused voice. Only then did Sam realise he’d spoken aloud. _Shit_!  
  
He coughed, feeling himself flush again – Christ, when did he turn into a thirteen year old girl with her first crush? He looked at the waitress apologetically, and then at Dean, who was smiling like the cat that got the cream.  
  
“Well Sammy if I didn’t know better, I’d say you were jealous of – ” he looked up at the waitress’s name badge, “Darlene, here.”  
  
“Oh screw you, Dean.”, he snapped. He’d really put his foot in it now, maybe that trip to the bathroom wasn’t such a bad idea after all. He stood and gestured over his shoulder with his thumb. “I gotta pee, get your pie to go. I’m ready to get outta here.”  
  
As he walked away from the table – thankfully, now minus his erection – he heard _Darlene_ rattling off all the varieties of pie available.  
  


~ . ~ . ~ . ~ . ~

  
When Sam came back to the table, there was no pie.  
  
“Dude, they must have a flavour you like, where is it?”  
  
“I changed my mind.”, he nodded his head to a table adjacent to theirs, where a girl who looked to be maybe 5 or 6 was greedily tucking into a giant sundae. “You wanna split an ice cream platter instead?”  
  
“Uh, I’m kinda full, Dean. Can’t we just go?”  
  
“You hardly ate anything, rabbit food doesn’t fill a man up.”  
  
Sam just raised an eyebrow. When his brother ignored him and picked up the dessert menu, he resigned himself to another few minutes of torture, and sat back down. He looked around the diner and saw that it had become busier. He noticed that the couple sat at the next table were also looking at the ice creams available. The woman spoke, and her English accent was clear.  
  
“I don’t fancy any of these, the portions are all too big. Ohh, do you think there’s anywhere around here we can get a 99? I haven’t had one of those for years!”  
  
Dean’s head flew up from the menu and he looked disbelievingly at Sam. He leaned forward and whispered, “Dude, did she just say what I think she said?”  
  
“God Dean, get your mind out of the gutter! A _ninety_ nine is an ice cream.”  
  
Dean looked a little put out. “An ice cream? How do you know that? And why have I never heard of it?”  
  
“It’s a cone with a scoop of ice cream with a chocolate flake bar in it. And sometimes raspberry syrup, sometimes chopped nuts. It all depends on your tastes I guess. A guy at Stanford whose girlfriend was English told us about them.”  
  
Dean appeared to reach a decision. “They sound good!” Standing and leaving the booth, he grinned from ear to ear. “Come on Sammy, we gotta find me one of these 99 things. It sounds like I’m missing out!”  
  
Sam rolled his eyes, but followed his brother from the diner. He hoped to God they _didn’t_ find one – he didn’t think he could handle watching Dean eating anything else without jumping him.  
  


~ . ~ . ~ . ~ . ~  
 

After trawling the local supermarket, they’d managed to find the ingredients they needed. Their shopping basket was loaded with ice cream cones, soft, smooth vanilla ice cream, and - much to Sam’s dismay - raspberry syrup. By the time they got back to the room, the ice cream was fast melting in the still sweltering heat.  
  
They worked quickly to build up their cones how they wanted them, before sitting down to set about their first taste of the English classic. It wasn’t long before Dean was making _those_ noises again.  
  
“ _God_ Sam, this is _so good_.”, he all but moaned, before licking a broad stripe from around the base of the ice cream, where it was starting to drip down over the lip of the cone. Next he worked his tongue over the top of the ice cream, taking in some of the syrup and swallowing it down slowly. He took another mouthful and managed to somehow get a small blob of syrup on his chin.  
  
Sam tried desperately not to stare at his brother, but with those beautiful, plump lips all sticky and shiny, it was impossible. His breath quickened as he wondered how the same mixture he was eating would taste if he were to go and taste it on Dean’s lips. He’d bet money that it’d taste a whole better.  
  
Again, his mind started taking him places he didn’t – _shouldn’t_ – want to go to. Would Dean let Sam slide his tongue between his brother’s lips, allowing him to feel the contrast of hot mouth and cold ice cream? If Sam were to lean down and suck that still sticky syrup off Dean’s chin, would he be pushed away? Would Dean fight him if he were to scoop ice cream into his brother’s mouth with his fingers, and have him suck it off until they were clean?  
  
Two things drew Sam from his line of thought. The first was the cold, wet drip of his own ice cream running over his fingers, hand and wrist. The second was that he was blindingly hard. There’s no way for Sam to deny it any more - he _wants_ Dean. _This is bad, this is really bad_!, he screamed inside his own head. His dick though, well that has other ideas!  
  
“Dude, what’s wrong with you? You’re getting that everywhere!”  
  
Sam quickly raised his arm and began licking the ice cream off himself, waving his other hand about, motioning to Dean for a napkin, only Dean didn’t seem to have gotten the message. He was just sat staring at Sam, his own ice cream melting over his hand.  
  
Sam felt something in his gut clench. The look in Dean’s eyes was… hungry. There’s no other word he can think of to describe it. _Huh, how about that_? Sam made an impulsive decision, and locked his eyes with Dean’s, and slowly licked the flake up and down with the flat of his tongue a few times until the chocolate had softened. Next he nibbled the tip before he slid his mouth down to where it met the cold sticky ice cream.  
  
Dean’s breath hitched, and there was a definite flush creeping into his cheeks. He watched as Dean swallowed hard, before clearing his throat and reaching his cleanest hand for the laptop, mumbling something about looking for their next hunt. Sam flicked his eyes down Dean’s body before he turned away completely, his eyes widening when he spotted the very obvious bulge in his brother’s jeans.  
  
Sam smiled widely, smacking his lips. “You’re right, this is good! We should get these more often.” he said, unable to keep the excitement from his voice.  
  
Maybe Sam wasn’t the only one being affected by the ‘heat’ after all…  
  


~ FIN ~


End file.
